


A Temporary Truce

by cthulhu_has_chaotic_stories (cthulhu_is_chaotic_good)



Category: Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz
Genre: AR Febuwhump (Alex Rider), Comfort, Gen, Sick Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:55:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29277318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cthulhu_is_chaotic_good/pseuds/cthulhu_has_chaotic_stories
Summary: Alex and Yassen were locked in a silent and unending battle: Alex was trying to find out what sinister plot was unfolding at this boarding school, and Yassen was successfully keeping Alex away from said sinister plot. Alex's mission was going nowhere, and Yassen was content to let Alex continue his pretense of being a normal schoolboy.And then Alex got the flu.
Comments: 17
Kudos: 95
Collections: AR Febuwhump 2021





	A Temporary Truce

**Author's Note:**

> Febuwhump alternative prompt: Please come back.

Yassen should have expected, when told that he would be overseeing the security at a boarding school whose principal held a number of sinister intentions, that he would run into the child.

Alex’s surprise at seeing Yassen could not be brushed away as deception. That, and Alex was a poor liar in the best of times. No - the boy hadn’t expected to see him here. MI6 had no idea, still, that Yassen currently ran operations at the school. This set up could blame nothing more than poor luck on Alex’s part.

The silent battle began: Alex, attempting to skirt around the school’s security to investigate the principal and his plans, and Yassen, sending his men to shepherd Alex back into classes every time that Alex began his sleuthing. Unfortunately for Alex, the sides were not evenly matched. Yassen had men on his side. His men had confiscated all the teenager’s gadgets when the possessions had been checked into the school. And at any point Yassen could ultimately, if needed, take Alex out of the way, and shoot him in the head.

He had decided to avoid that last option within seconds of seeing Alex’s terrified expression during their first chance encounter.

\---

Security kept informed of events at the school. Yassen ensured his men understood that what the students involved themselves in affected the security details as well. So, Yassen was aware that the flu was sweeping the school, sending children to the infirmary day in and out, keeping the school’s few sick rooms fully occupied. When he heard Alex had also taken ill, he knew a check-in would be in order. Which explained why Yassen was now opening the door to the one of the infirmary’s sick rooms – ordinarily, a place he would never visit.

Alex, at least, hadn’t slipped out before Yassen’s arrival. The child was buried under a thin green blanket on the cot bed, only strands of blond hair poking out from under the blanket indicating that it was indeed him.

There was no reason to waste time. Alex, in faking sick, hoped to find a time to slip out of the infirmary and sneak around the guards, presumably to reveal the plot he’d been sent in to investigate. Yassen would have a talk with Alex and convince him that that plan would be an extraordinary mistake, and then he would leave.

“This is a convenient excuse to escape classes,” Yassen said to the huddled figure, not sure how he expected Alex to respond. Perhaps the boy would be frightened.

What he didn’t expect was the blanket to be pushed aside, revealing the dark cinnamon-brown eyes bright with fever that stared back at him.

Yassen, caught off guard, stared back. He had prepared his speech carefully and in advance, measuring each word for it’s potential to inject enough threat to scare the boy away from his mission. He hadn’t prepared for this: for Alex, tired from numerous attempts at nighttime walks around the school, to actually be sick.

Knowing how deep the dark circles under Alex’s eyes had been the last time Yassen had spotted the child, Yassen should have expected this possibility.

“Hi,” Alex muttered, clutching the blanket close to him. “’S you.”

“It’s me,” Yassen confirmed.

Miserably, Alex continued, his voice bleary from exhaustion, “’Ve come to make sure I’m sick? That I’m outta trouble? I didn’t want to be here, but ‘m sick and ‘m here and ‘m alone.”

Focusing on the most intelligible part of the words, Yassen asked, “Where do you want to be?”

Alex didn’t hesitate. “Home. Wanna be home. Wanna see Jack.”

Yassen took the seat next to the cot. “I can send you home.”

For the moment, the words were a pleasant lie. Until this operation concluded, Alex would need to stay here, where he couldn’t run to MI6 and say that Yassen was involved with the security at the school. That fact alone would be enough of an excuse for MI6 to sign off on a raid.

Eventually, though, Alex would go home. Alive. In that regard, Yassen’s words were true.

“Can’t go home,” Alex murmured in response. “’M not gonna let you win. Not gonna let ‘6 fail.”

“And what are you going to do to stop me?” Yassen asked.

“Dunno, but I’m gonna do it.” Alex shook his head, letting his hair fall from his eyes. “Not – ‘m not – ‘m not gonna fail.”

Shivering, fingers clasping the thin blanket around himself, Alex looked young: as young as his fourteen – no, now fifteen – years. His words sounded as young as he looked.

Yassen placed a hand on Alex’s forehead. He felt a shudder under his hand, but more than that, he felt the clammy forehead burning with fever.

“What’d you think I’s gonna do?” The almost unintelligible words seemed to leave Alex faint. He closed his eyes. “Gonna – gonna – gonna break into the office ‘gain? Your guards always watch me – watch me ‘verywhere I go. I can’t – can’t _do_ anything. ‘Ve got too many people.”

“I think you can cause more trouble than you realize.”

“Not with you.” Alex inhaled shakily, then opened his eyes again. “’Ve been trained. By my dad. My dad taught you – taught you to – to kill people.”

Yassen resisted the urge to tell Alex to hush. There were no cameras in this room, after all. More to the point, in Alex’s current condition, burning up as he was, the child probably couldn’t guard his words carefully even if he tried.

“John taught me many things,” Yassen tried to assure Alex.

“T’kill. He taught you to _kill_.” An indignantly judgmental look passed over Alex’s flushed face.

“Yes,” Yassen admitted. He lifted his hand from Alex’s head. “I’ll get the nurse.”

The nurse could take care of Alex – could get him what he needed: another blanket, and a wet rag for his forehead. Yassen didn’t need to be here; couldn’t help anything in this room.

“No,” Alex said, his voice suddenly clearer than it had been before, though still weak. “Need to stay – you need to stay!”

There was no reason for Yassen to stay. His job was elsewhere in the facilities.

He stood to leave. “Get some rest, little one,” he said, before crossing the few steps to the door.

“Yassen,” Alex pled behind him, “Come back. _Please.”_

He shouldn’t. There was a school to monitor; plans to protect.

Regretting his choice, Yassen hesitated before he opened the door to leave. He reached for the doorknob, and then stopped. Turning, he asked, “You need something?”

Alex sighed. “Yeah. Gotta keep you here. Can’t let you leave.” Alex rolled in his bed, his next words half obscured into the pillow. “Evil plans - need to stop you - should stop. Evil’s no fun.”

He couldn’t help the stab of amusement, even while knowing he shouldn’t feel the urge to smile. Not while Alex suffered, alone, with a fever putting him out of service. Another reason not to stay. Yassen would be poor company if he did.

“If I stay, it won’t stop the operation that I’m being paid to run,” Yassen promised.

The teenager lay quiet, face covered by matted blond hair obscuring the half of his face not buried by his pillow. Only half an eye peeked through the hair, staring back at him expectantly, his gaze unfocused yet stubborn. Expecting him to stay, even if it was for all the wrong reasons.

“I’m not a nurse,” Yassen warned.

“Mhm, ‘s ok.” Alex closed his eyes again. “If you stay ‘m winning, and no one’s killed.” The next few words were whispered. “Don’t wanna be alone.”

Yassen glanced at the door, making up his mind.

Tomorrow, perhaps Alex would recover. They would resume their façade of Alex being just another ordinary schoolboy while Yassen was just another head of security; would resume the impasse of Alex seeking to end the principal’s scheming while Yassen refused to take care of the problem in a more permanent fashion.

Until then, Alex was no danger. He was sick. Yassen held no control over the fever, but he could stop the teenager from anguishing alone.

Yassen reached for his phone. He would have Cedric lead this shift of the guard patrol, and watch the cameras. While Alex lay here, the greatest risk to their operation couldn’t cause problems anyway.

Tomorrow could come tomorrow.


End file.
